A Look Beyond
by Neon Star
Summary: A semi poetic look at a Tolkien Elf. May your heart choose who I describe. Other looks soon to follow.


This is just a semi poetic look at a Tolkien Elf. Don't own whatever Elf you think this is.  
  
A Look At An Elf  
Beauty defined in the lines of your body, the ripple of your muscles, the paleness of your skin, the reflection in your eyes, your soul shimmering through your sweet flesh. All betray you, Elven child, all show your beauty, be it in or out of your physical presence; be it a curse or a blessing.  
  
Your feet are swift, seemingly delicate and flighty as bird wings, for they seem to serve the same purpose, to fly free of the bounds of this mortal world. Yet your\ feet bear a being with a weight heavier then any that any mortal has had to bear, though your heart does not acknowledge this burden, for what is time to one such as you? Your feet, so tender, shaped like Men's, yet your feet can be as hard as dragon scales, to bear you through cruel ice and snow, wind and rain, scorching heat and burning sands, gentle forest and sweet green, carrying you ever onward, for all eternity.  
  
Your legs are slender, yet as strong and swift as the horses you ride, carrying you far across the land without tiring. They seem to never tire, the blood within always flowing swift and sure, but you have fallen. Your knees are faintly married by the thinnest of scars where you have fallen, either in grief or in battle, or in play, but never in clumsiness.  
  
Your muscles seem to be crafted by the finest craftsman of Arda, and ripple gently as you move, more graceful then a cat. Your waist is so thin, yet so defined. Your chest can be hard around your heart when an enemy strikes, yet softer then the bed you lay upon under you lover's touch. Your collarbones glide out from your softer flesh like dove's wings, to show themselves just beneath the thin flesh.   
  
Your shoulders are slender, yet strong enough to bear the weight of time and not bend to it. Your arms are deliverers of death's fatal blow, ye also of life's gift of healing. Tender with those you love, protecting them in your warm embrace, keeping them from the horrors of the world that would snatch them from you, yet harsh with those who would dare to harm those you love, or you. Your elbows, finely carved, bend and move with ease as you dance, as you fight, as you play, as you love. Yet, they too are finely scared with your falls, be in battle or in play. Your wrists are fine, slender, yet strong, forever to remain unbound. The veins that pulse under your thin skin sings of the life that is in you, the blood within as red as men's showing how human and how human you are not. Your hands, so soft, so tender, yet so harsh, so cruel. Each finger perfectly made, each long, flexible, each nail shell pink, and a faint of amount of dirt trapped beneath such perfect nail. Such a strange thing to see upon such a perfect looking being, yet amusing none the less. The skin of your hands are rough from handling some weapon, be it a sword, lance, bow, or some other weapon, yet the roughness is comforting to those you love, for they know they are safe with you.   
  
Your neck is lender, long, graceful in your movements, yet unbendable to oppression. Too proud to do bend to those that would chain you, your neck would snap before it bends in defeat. Your head is delicately shaped, the bones of your check barely visible under your gentle flesh. To look upon your face, to see the beauty there, would make the coldest heart weep for what is seen there, in both joy and sorrow. Not one line of age marks your face, for time cannot mark upon such ageless features. Your lips are colored a pale rose pink, full of life and sweetness, richly shaped. Those who see your wondrous smile upon those lips cannot help feel gladness in their hearts, or despair when a frown graces your fair lips. Such things pour forth from your delicate lips, either in warm words or in icy tongue, all within your fair bell like voice. Your voice could make the foulest curse sound sweet, it could charm even the wildest creatures, the songs sung with it are more beautiful then any sound upon this world. Your voice is one of the sweetest treasures of the world, if it were silenced; many hearts would break in that sad silence. Your nose is elegantly shaped, no flaw can be found with it, even if it were broken. Your ears are leaf-shaped, and faintly pointed. As elegant as the sweet green leaves you have walked under, nothing could mare the beauty of your sharp ears, and no sound can escape them. Your forehead is high, and only faintly lined with the wisdom inside your mind and heart. Your hair streams down your slender back in waves, shimmering with your light. The color it bears only enhances your beauty as it flows upon the wind, or lays along your back, barely brushing your fair hips, bond in braids of intricacy.   
  
Your eyes; Ai! Who could look you in the eyes and not flinch away? Your eeys are windows to the fierce, gentle soul within, opened wide and laid bare before the world. Your eyes are ever watching, even in sleep, they lie open, though dreams drift over them. No color could do your eyes justice, though the color that shines in them is unmatched in the entire world. Your eyes reflect the world as you see it, both in its shadows and lights, such a pure mirror cannot be fooled by any means within the world. There is only a glimpse of your light, your soul, through your eyes.  
  
Your soul, fair Elf, how could one describe the wondrous entity that is you? Your soul is made of light, yet, shadows lurk within. Your soul is where your power to kill and to heal comes from, and it is where your strongest will to survive is, where your deepest sorrow lurks, all contained in your bright being. Who could contest with such a soul, and still be fallible? None, only those that made you could have a more beautiful soul. One would weep to catch a glimpse of your light, yet only those near death that are not of your own can see it. It is a mystery wrapped in flesh, immortal as long as the world will last, and perhaps that is for the best. 


End file.
